English faith. There are graceful as well as loathsome forms of Protestantism, loathsome as well as graceful forms of Catholicism: probably the balance is about even. The Christ of Clapham is an ungracious god enough; the time is not fruitful of gods in any degree adorable; but the Christ of Montrouge? Exeter Hall is not a wise or lovely oracle; but what of Saint-Acheul? Is there any more of grace, of light, of culture or sweetness, under the banner of M. Veuillot than on the staff of the Record? There lies the question; not between Languedoc and Margate. Against the best of one creed it is but fair to set the best of another, against the worst the worst. As to culture, sanity, power of grasp and reception, Mlle. de Guérin hesitating at the brink of Hugo is assuredly as pitiable as any Puritan shuddering on the verge of Shakespeare.

Again, Mr. Arnold has a fond faith in the French Academy and in the Revue des Deux Mondes which is nothing short of pathetic; he seems actually to take them at their own valuation. The too outspoken critic before cited ventures to express in ribald phrase his wonder that such a pair of "hoarse and haggard old temptresses" (vieilles tentatrices hâves et rauques) should play the part of Delilah to the scourger of Philistines. Not, as he adds, that he would impugn the venerable maiden reputation of their hoary hairs; but such as they are, "ces étranges séductrices ont failli couper de leurs ciseaux émoussés les cheveux au Samson anglais. Déjà son engouement a manqué l'aveugler. Aux yeux de M. Arnold, l'amour a refait à l'Académie une virginité; il est tout prêt à épouser sa Marion, à prôner ses quelques